When Gregaor saw a flickering light glowing from inside Charles Long’s duffle bag laying carelessly on the floor. Gregaor’s silver eyes glistened, the casket, he thought.
He looked at Charles who stood with his back toward him. Casually, so no one would notice his actions, Gregaor reached down and picked up the bag to find the casket inside. The symbols carved in the wooden box glowed, mesmerizing. They flashed in sequence. Again, he looked at Charles and pulled the box from the bag and stepped away.
“Van, I want you to stay here. I’ll be back soon. Don’t follow me.”
Van nodded. His eyes heavy with dread; he answered with a shallow voice, “All right.”
Gregaor didn’t wait around for his brother’s response. He hid in the only place he could find, the base of the monolithic statue out of every one’s sight, in the shadow of the malevolent creature.
He studied the casket. The images flickered in a timed sequence and Gregaor studied them. Confident he knew the arrangement, Gregaor touched them in the order he learned. He pressed the first one, then the next and the next. Before he had the chance to press the remaining two symbols Charles appeared around the base of the statue and snatched the casket from Gregaor’s hands. The two remaining icons continued to flash, back and forth, back and forth waiting to be activated.
“You have no right!” Gregaor snapped leaping to his feet.
“It’s you who have no right. This belongs to me,” Charles said looking over the casket.
“You own nothing when you are employed by a Great House.” Gregaor lunged forward to take the box back, but Charles pulled it away.
“That Great House is family Tannador,” Da’Mira said stepping into view. “Therefore, the casket is my property and I give Professor Long the right to claim it.”
“Milady, do you hear something?” Charles asked; his words lost amid Gregaor’s mockery.
“I don’t know why I ever saw anything in you Da’Mira. You’ve always been a troublemaker, even more so after you were educated by that low-born… what was his name?”
“Don’t!”
Gregaor’s lips curled up into a loathsome grin, said, “Kab’ic Gear… wasn’t it?”
“I said don’t!” Da’Mira raised a hand toward Gregaor but Charles grabbed it and pulled her back.
“Wait… listen –” Charles said in a hush.
Da’Mira jerked her hand away.
“It’s a ploy. There’s nothing,” Gregaor said but swallowed his words when a grunting sound came from the chamber entranceway. He wheeled around just as the scaled gorilla-like creatures burst into the room.
“They’re free from the ice!” Charles yelled.
The members of the expedition team scattered, screaming, trying to find a place to hide. The beasts roared, un-threatened by the expedition members who approached them with their plasma weapons.
“No, don’t!” Charles warned his men, running toward them.
“Charles you can’t!” Da’Mira yelled.
“Leave them!” Gregaor said as he dove for cover behind the large lizard statue. He watched as the armed men fought off the attacking aliens. Gregaor shuttered when the alien weapons opened fire. The blasts from the beast’s guns cut the security detail in half with razor-like precision.
The advancing aliens marched forward, their motivation unclear, their intent obvious: to kill everyone in the chamber.
Charles ran past the statues with his casket tucked under one arm and pulling Da’Mira along with him.
Van, Gregaor thought and ran after Charles and Da’Mira. A red blast slammed off the wall closest to Gregaor, it ricocheted past him as one of the alien guards gave chase. Escaping death, Gregaor found Van hunkering on the floor where he left him, his arms folded over his head.
My Own stood over Van. She tried to get him up. “He won’t budge!”
“I won’t go until Gregaor tells me to!” Van screamed, his face buried into the floor.
“I’m here Van,” Gregaor said, pulling on his brother’s arms
Van looked up, “Greg… Look out!”
Gregaor and My Own turned to see one of the gorilla-like creatures standing over them, its weapon poised to fire. My Own screamed and Gregaor placed his hands out in front of him. “No… no!” he shouted.
Kepler 369
A Lower Level Under the Origin Chamber
May 7, 2442 – Earth time
Colin raced to the top of the stairs, more screams erupted. The faster he climbed the more frequent the cries came. When he reached the top, he discovered a wall instead of an exit. Puzzled, he reached out for it, half expecting to find an illusion. Instead he found a wall. He pushed against it with all his weight. Solid. He thought and slid his sword to his back.
Avara joined him. Short of breath, she said, “Dead end?”
Colin ran his weathered hands over the smooth service hoping to find something, anything that would produce an exit. “These stairs couldn’t have led here for no reason at all.” He shoved, pushed, kicked, yelled, swore – he stopped frustrated.
“Feel around the top; look for a crease or a seam,” Avara instructed.
Colin growled deep in his throat. “Nothing!”
Avara stepped up to the wall with Colin, inadvertently activating a hidden trigger. The wall and a base spun around, spilling them out to the floor on the other side.
“Goddamn it!” Colin said, he leapt to his feet, pulled Avara up next to him and turned around in a complete circle to survey their new location. The massive new room went on forever. Two huge statues stood in the center of the chamber – beyond that… the walls were alive with images of things Colin couldn’t comprehend.
“Where are we?” Avara asked.
“I very much doubt we are on Earth anymore,” Colin said and pointed at three large alien creatures advancing their way through a group of frightened people.
“Not on Earth?” the words stuck in Avara’s throat. She grabbed a hold of Colin’s arm and pulled him close.
The advancing beasts terrorized their way through the crowd of people. Colin studied their weapons and their fighting skills. The creatures dominated their victims. “Keep close to me,” Colin told Avara and he led her to the bases of the statues.
“Do you want to get yourself killed?” Avara asked when she joined him at the giant effigies. She hid behind him and tugged on his white jersey. “Can’t we just get out of here?”
“And go where?” Colin asked watching the aliens move further away from him. He saw several mutilated dead bodies lying in the wake of the alien’s attack. Charred flesh invaded his senses. Their energy weapons not only killed but tortured their victims.
“If we can get back downstairs we could use the crystal to send us home.”
Colin ignored the fear in Avara’s voice. He shared her apprehension; however, neither of them knew how they got here, how the crystal worked and how to recreate the event. Right now, Colin’s concerns were the three aliens running amok. He didn’t know how to stop them or if he should risk his neck for people he didn’t know. Then he saw her, not more than a stone’s throw from him. Colin rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t mistaken and said bewildered, “That’s my sister.”
Avara looked over Colin’s shoulder. She still kept a firm grip on his jersey. “Are you sure?”
Colin stood and ripped the generational sword from his back when he saw a gorilla charging his sister. “I’ve never been surer of anything,” he said and ran toward his sister, slipping through Avara’s fingers.
“Colin don’t leave me!” Avara yelled in a hushed scream.
Colin sprinted forward without thought of how to fight the alien, all he could think of was saving his sister. He shouted, “Corah!” when he leapt between her and the gorilla.
“Colin?” My Own shrieked in surprise.
Startled, the alien warrior trained his weapon on Colin, but the Highlander disarmed the brute with a blow from his sword, slicing the barrel off the end of the weapon. Sparks shot out
from the end of the gun. The gorilla used the damaged weapon as a cudgel and knocked Colin away with a prodigious blow.
Colin fell to the floor knocking the knit cap from his head; and his hair dropped to his shoulders. He recovered to his feet when the gorilla advanced on him. The beast swung his weapon, grunting and snorting, alerting his comrades. Colin blocked the swings with his sword. The muscles in his arms strained from the weight of the alien’s blow, but Colin did not faulter. He knew there was too much at stake if he failed.
He pushed forward exchanging several more blows from the destroyed weapon. His arms and back tore with pain. Catching a glimpse of the other two gorillas lumbering toward him – and knowing time was up – Colin screamed and swung the weapon, dodging the warriors attack. He drove the sword deep into the beast’s chest, hoping it pierced a vital organ.
The muscles tightened in Colin’s arms and he drove the sword upward, slicing through the beast’s body. The brute stumbled; a revolting stench and gray slimy blood covered the blade. The beast dropped its destroyed weapon and reached out for the Highlander. He thrust his sword into the brute again, this time the alien collapsed to the floor into a puddle of its own slime.
“Look out!” My Own shouted and pointed behind him.
The second of the three warriors drew down on Colin. Haggard, his arms wrenched with pain, he tossed his blade through the air, shouted. To his surprise the sword landed where he hoped, piercing the creature’s chest. It dropped its gun, the weapon slid across the floor toward Colin.
Even with the sword sticking out of the beast it moved forward, snorting and grunting refusing to die. Its eyes glowed red, enraged.
Colin picked up the alien weapon and studied its configuration. It was nothing like a plasma rifle, but he figured it couldn’t be much different. He pointed it and pulled the trigger; the weapon jolted and pushed him back several inches when it discharged. Correcting his footing, Colin remained on his feet. The red pulse burst from the end of the gun sounded like a siren and screamed when it spun through the air. It gained momentum with each passing micro second until it ripped into the gorilla’s flesh. The creature screamed; its insides spilling out onto the floor when the blast melted its flesh. The incredible stench saturated the air.
Colin’s stomach wrenched but he controlled the tightening in his belly. The third and final creature fired its gun; Colin dove out of the way; the blast missed him by centimeters. He kept a tight grip on his alien gun when he hit the ground. Manhandling it, he aimed and fired another blast of his own, followed by two more shots, all three hit their target. The final alien dropped to the floor, its torso ripped open. The blasts sliced him in half.
Exhausted, Colin lay on the floor taking deep steady breaths, his body drenched in sweat.
“Colin!” My Own ran to her brother, she grabbed him by his jersey and pulled on him.
Colin got to his knees and threw his arms around his sister. Avara stood a few feet away and watched. A smile rolled up on her lips.
“How… how did you get here?”
Colin didn’t know how to answer, he wasn’t sure. “It’s a long story,” he said.
“My Own,” Da’Mira called out.
Charles fast on Da’Mira’s heels stopped to study the dead aliens. He placed the casket on the floor next to him; the two remaining icons still flashing. He pulled a stylist from his pocket and picked at the remains.
“Da’Mira,” My Own said pulling her brother to his feet. “This is my brother, Colin McGregor – Colin this is Da’Mira Tannador.”
“The one who kidnapped you…” Colin said.
“It’s a matter of one’s perspective,” Da’Mira said with a protective reply.
Colin straightened, took a deep breath to calm himself and said, “You took her from the breeding facility – you took her into orbit – you brought her to this planet. I think I have a good handle on the perspective.”
“And how did you get here?” Charles asked when he joined the small group.
“I wish I could say,” Colin said turning his attention to Charles.
“It was the portal,” Avara said. She stepped up next to Colin.
My Own eyed Avara. Her brow tightened.
“This is Avara, she is a part of the Tribe of the Free in the North American wasteland.”
“Who gives a damn,” Gregaor grimaced; by the tone of his voice he wasn’t very interested.
“What portal?” Charles asked ignoring Gregaor.
Colin gave an abridged version of their story. Captivated, Charles took in every bit of Colin’s tale, stopping him a few times for questions.
“Your father had no idea he was sending us here,” Colin assured Da’Mira.
“But he looked well?” Da’Mira asked.
Colin didn’t know how to answer. For her wellbeing he replied, “Yes.”
“It sounds like you came through a controlled wormhole,” Charles said. He rubbed his hands together, excited.
“Is that even possible?” Da’Mira asked.
Charles shook his head yes and added, “It’s possible. I’ve seen mathematical theories drafted by Vincent that…” his voice trailed off and he looked at Da’Mira. “If those gorillas were freed from the ice… then perhaps Vincent and the others were too!” Charles darted from the chamber, out the main door.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Colin asked.
“Like your story, brother – it’s complicated,” My Own said.
“My Own is right.”
“My Own?” Colin questioned.
Both Da’Mira and My Own laughed until Da’Mira saw Van picking up the casket from the floor.
“Van… Van you need to put that down.”
Van looked at Da’Mira and ignored her. He looked at Gregaor and said, “Did you want this, brother?”
“Van, I think you should do what Da’Mira said and put it down,” Gregaor said in a worried voice.
Van ignored Gregaor too and pushed the last two remaining icons. The casket made a CLICK sound and popped open. Van dropped it to the floor and ran, ending up behind Gregaor – hiding.
Da’Mira and everyone looked at the opened box. Colin waited in anticipation like everyone else in the group even though he hadn’t a clue what was happening. He grabbed both My Own and Avara and pulled them behind him when a scream shrieked from inside the casket. The box erupted. Massive plumes of light shot into the air. Two powerful streams of energy, one green and the other red, shot across the room. Colin looked for his sword but could not find it. He raised the alien weapon. The ribbons of energy circled the group like snakes, curling around their arms and legs and spinning up into the air. It looked like the two apparitions where battling one another.
“What’s happening?” Avara screamed; she hid her face in Colin’s back.
Colin followed the streams of light, his mouth agape.
Gregaor grabbed a hold of Van and forced him to the floor.
Members of the expedition team scurried for cover. Screams filled the chamber.
“Someone needs to find Charles!” Da’Mira shouted over the screams.
Colin followed the lights way up into the air – they manifested themselves around the statues. The green absorbed itself into the smaller stone effigy while the red engulfed the larger sculpture. The two figures glowed and pulsated with the energy until the light subsided.
Da’Mira stepped toward the statues. When the figures cracked and chunks of them fell to the floor, she stopped and looked back at the others. The remaining members of the expedition team encircled the statues, waiting. Moments later the figures moved.
Colin pointed his weapon.
“Wait!” Da’Mira threw up her hand.
My Own touched Colin on the arm, said, “Listen to her…”
Colin lowered the gun but jerked up when Origin’s thunderous voice echoed...
ATTENTION – ATTENTION – PRISONER ONE IS AWAKING>
Colin cupped his hands over his ears. He
circled the room trying to figure out where the thunderous voice came from. An alarm rang, Avara reached out for him, her expression mimicked his reaction. For the first time in his life, Colin was afraid.
Kepler 369
Outside the Origin Chamber – The Ice Tombs
May 7, 2442 – Earth Time
Water streamed down the cold corridor. Charles eased himself past the ice tombs that once held the lizard-gorilla guards. Shards of ice lay splintered, melting on the floor. By the pattern of the ice, it looked like they forced themselves out of their prisons. Charles ran ahead, hoping to find Vincent free from his tomb. Slipping on the ice, water rained down on him and slid off the sharp contours of his face. His hair soaked, his body chilled and shivered. He ran is hand through his dirty blond hair, slicked it back. His teeth chattered.
Beyond the shattered ice tombs, he found the other prisoners still frozen solid, their prisons melting; they lacked the gorilla’s strength to break themselves out. He stopped in front of Vincent Abernathy and pressed his bare hands against the ice, his fingers and hands stung from the cold. The ice melted, but his old friend remained entombed. Charles looked further down the hall toward his other friends. They too, must still be frozen – he thought of them all, but Vincent… Charles paused. He felt as if he failed his old friend. “I should have been entombed here, not you.”
The lines in Charles’ face hardened. After the death of his mothers, Charles spiraled into a deep dark place. Even after all the help from Oliver Duncan, it was Vincent that pulled him out of his melancholy.
Vincent cultivated Charles’ hidden passion for the pursuit of knowledge and helped to mold him into the archeologist he’d become. Charles remembered one of the first things Vincent taught him. Everything happens when it’s supposed to. For an archeologist time is our greatest enemy. Be patient. The last thing Charles had ever been, was patient. Besides just wanting his friend free, he needed Vincent’s council.
“Damn it!” Charles’s anger swelled in him and he scolded himself for acting like a child. He put his mind to the problem. Calculating the thickness of the ice and the melting rate, he then factored in the temperature of the corridor. He determined when Vincent and the others would be free from the ice. He sighed, twisted his mouth as he figured the math in his head. Three days… three more days.
Origin Expedition Page 37
